


Haudion Drabbles

by TeagueBlack



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I think there's a dream sequence?, M/M, Pokemon are animals, Slight nsfw sometimes, Somewhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:56:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeagueBlack/pseuds/TeagueBlack
Summary: A series of Haudion drabbles....I just needed to write it.





	1. we

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'We' is something that he gets used to.

Gladion always thought he knew himself, completely, utterly. After all, he should know everything about his own life.

Then he got to know Hau, and he wasn't quite so sure any more.

He'd always thought they were vastly different. Hau is warm and beautiful. His laughter fills whatever space he is in and makes everyone feel like laughing along.

Gladion is none of those.

Hau drags Gladion onto the rooftop to watch the sunrise, watch the dusky pink of dawn slowly fade to the pale blue or grey of day. Sometimes he brings along a backpack of snacks and juice boxes - peach or pineapple, it seems he only ever has two flavours - and they sit on the roof, having their breakfast before they've even brushed their teeth, and Hau's smiling, smiling. They'll stay until the first golden rays hit their skin, and then the beauty of dawn has vanished and it's time to go back down and have a second breakfast, courtesy of Hala.

Gladion's never been able to eat that much and he's quite sure Hau's a hobbit anyway, but he'll usually have juice, at the very least, up on the roof because Hau pouts if he doesn't touch anything up there.

In summer, when it's unbearably hot, Gladion finds himself dragged unceremoniously to the seaside by Hau. He knows that if he doesn't get dragged then he'll sit all day in an air-conditioned room, which is fine by him but apparently it's not too good for his skin.

Sunscreen is a must or he'll burn. He envies how Hau doesn't burn at all.

They bury their feet in the sand as they walk, the waves lapping at their ankles, light reflecting off the water just so perfectly.

They only have the change in their pockets when they get to the drink stand and they debate over whether or not to share a lemonade or iced tea, but the drink stand owner solves it by mixing both together.

It makes for an interesting combination indeed.

At night, when Gladion lies in bed, he thinks that he and Hau are very different indeed.

But as time passes, he figures that they're quite similar after all.

Because really, Gladion likes the beach and the sun and picnics on the roof. He likes being carefree and laughing and feeling warm.

He likes those things when he thinks no one is around to see him enjoy them.

But he also likes all these things because Hau is right there with him, he realises.

That's also how he realises he's in love with Hau.


	2. awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 2 am and Gladion can't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coincidentally, I made the final edit of this chapter in my writing drafts at 2 am.

Hau wakes up when it's still dark, and wonders why the bed feels so empty.

Gladion's up, he realises, so he pulls the blanket with him and shuffles over to the lonely-looking figure out on the balcony, wraps the blanket and his arms around him.

Gladion flinches, but slowly relaxes as he realises it's Hau.

"What are you doing?" Hau asks, and Gladion simply lets his gaze wander across the city skyline. The yellow-orange glow of the streetlights. The neon signs, the bright lights of office buildings and skyscrapers and monuments whose names elude both of them.

"Writing," he finally says, looking down at the worn notebook and pencil in his lap. "I just suddenly woke up. What time is it?"

"2.04," Hau mutters after a quick glance at his phone, before pressing a kiss to Gladion's cheek. "You aren't tired?"

"I can't fall back asleep. I had an odd dream. I tried to remember it, but...only bits and pieces come back. All I remember is some...cowboy movie." Probably Billy The Kid, considering that they'd watched that a week ago.

Hau nods, letting one of his hands find Gladion's and squeezing in reassurance.

"I'll stay up with you, then."

"You idiot, you'll end up dozing off anyway and I'll have to haul your heavy ass back to bed."

"It's better to be sitting here with you than to be alone in bed."

Gladion is too tired to fight that, so he just relaxes his worn body against Hau's and half-heartedly scribbles a few more words.

Hau glances around their balcony, at the shadowy outlines of potted plants, and decides they could stand to get a few more.

Very soon, the pencil falls from Gladion's hand, and his breaths come out slow and steady. Hau wraps him up in the blanket and carries him back to their room.

Everything must go in place.

The book goes into the drawer, the pencil goes onto the nightstand.

Gladion stays in his arms, and they go to bed just as they should.

"Goodnight."


	3. seven kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not like Gladion has only had seven kisses throughout his relationship with Hau.
> 
> It's just that these kisses are more memorable than all the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy sappy kissu.

The first time they kiss, his lips taste sweet, and Gladion thinks it's so cliché and pathetic and he can just barely place the taste.

Honey.

It's because of those sticky honey buns he ate, maybe, and honestly Hau should wipe his mouth properly, but it doesn't matter because his mouth is warm and his arms are around him and oh, his big hands are just smoothing across his back, so warm, so calloused.

Like this, they're no longer the strict, straight-laced prefect and the swim team captain, they're just two high school boys kissing in an empty classroom after school.

Two boys, one who writes notes on colourful post-its, his handwriting all loopy and a little bit messy, and sticks them on the other's shirt.

Two boys, who sometimes run into each other on the street while walking their dogs and then they somehow end up shopping for new sneakers and doggy blankets.

Two boys who know the sweetness and innocence of love.

They don't know if it'll be forever, but they know they'll never forget it.

 

* * *

 

 

The second time they kiss is when they're in Gladion's hometown.

It's cold up there in the mountains, so they huddle close to the fireplace and let the smell of woodsmoke wash over them.

Tucked in Gladion's coat are their ticket stubs - they'll need return tickets for their train back to school once the holidays end - and he feels so tired but next to Hau he's somewhat rejuvenated.

Hau turns to Gladion, huddles closer, then presses his lips to his, and Gladion freezes in shock before slowly responding.

"Mm. You're cold. But you smell good."

"Dummy, you smell the same..."

Burnet brings them steaming mugs of coffee, and Gladion warns Hau not to burn his tongue, which is futile considering that Hau will inevitably burn his tongue on every hot beverage he consumes.

"Kiss me again?" he asks Gladion, and his voice is so small, so soft - and he's dozing off - that Gladion can't help but lean in and capture those lips once more.

His, his, his.

The world could turn to ash around them right now and Gladion wouldn't care.

 

* * *

 

The third time they kiss is when they're older; they've finished college, Gladion's just moved into a new apartment, and Hau's come over to visit. He brings with him handpicked wildflowers, and Gladion mutters something about him being a barbarian and warns him to wash his hands, but Hau just barks out a laugh that sends delightful shivers down the blond male's spine.

"How'd you find wisteria?" Gladion muses, studying the haphazard bouquet, and Hau shrugs and says he passed by a whole field of them on the way.

The flowers go in a vase on the table; Silvally eyes them and sniffs - he's big enough to reach the table when standing on his hind legs - but deems them to not be a threat, then hurries to the kitchen just as the oven goes off.

"Cinnamon?" Hau asks, and Gladion nods because he wanted a snack with the special tea that Kukui and Burnet brought over.

"Tiger chai black tea? But it's red."

"All black tea looks red, Hau."

The freshly-baked cinnamon rolls smell so good, and pair so well with the tea. Hau swoons at the taste and Gladion tries very hard to ignore the (somewhat erotic) moaning from him.

The sky has pale purple with pinks and golds, wispy clouds drifting along, and it's something that Gladion probably won't see again for a long time.

"Gladion?" Hau asks, and Gladion looks at him.

"...Hau?"

"You're beautiful," Hau says all of a sudden, and when he looks at him, the look in his eyes is so tender, his face so soft, that Gladion cannot help but feel pink creeping across his cheeks, and his brain helpfully adds that to the infinite reasons why he loves him.

"Stop making me fall in love with you every time you look at me like that," he blurts out, and it's Hau's turn to blush, and laugh, as he pulls a mildly protesting Gladion close and snuggles.

 

* * *

 

The fourth time they kiss sounds slightly out of place, but it's only because it's so dear to them that others could never hope to understand.

It's because Hala passes on. Just a gentle, quick passing.

Death took him in his sleep.

And yet, it hurts. It hurts so much. No matter how much he tried to prepare his family and friends for the inevitable, it just wasn't enough.

Gladion is there to put his arms around Hau and let him cry on his shoulder, to brush his hair and tie it back neatly, to get him to stop crying long enough to make his little speech, though he's back to grieving as soon as he steps down from that podium.

At night, Gladion runs his fingers through Hau's tousled wind-blown hair and soothes him while he screams, out into the open, out into the sea. He follows him into the waves, pulls him back out when Hau's screaming on his knees and is up to his shoulders in water, fully-clothed, shrieking till his voice turns hoarse as the saltwater spray stings his eyes and until he has no tears left to cry.

He struggles.

Gladion kisses him, and Hau melts, grabbing his face, kissing back desperately, not wanting to let go until Gladion pulls back and gazes at him pleadingly.

"Hau, please. Please. Let's go back to the house. You...you need to rest."

Hau swallows hard, tries to stop crying, and eventually lets himself be taken back home.

For a long while, his smiles aren't quite there. Those grins of his are no longer so carefree.

It takes ages before he begins to heal. Gladion's taking a basketful of clean, warm, dry laundry upstairs and hears Hau humming, peers in to see him stitching a quilt for Silvally to match Nougat's small quilt.

Hau might be broken, but he's putting himself back together, and Gladion's going to help him.

 

* * *

 

The fifth time they kiss is after Gladion solves his first big case, because he joined the NPD and he's a newcomer and he can't afford to fail, not when the higher-ups are watching his every move whenever he's on duty.

Hau cries in the hospital, wraps his arms around him, the doctor says it'll be weeks before the fracture heals and then he can go home.

Night falls, the two of them are left alone, nurses can't bear to tell Hau that it's long past visiting hours because of how tightly their fingers are intertwined, how desperate Hau's voice sounds when he chokes out, "I could have lost you."

"But you didn't," Gladion whispers, and then Hau's lips press against his and they're kissing fervently.

_'I missed you. I want you to be safe. I never want to let go.'_

All those things are conveyed with a simple kiss.

They bury their fingers in each others' hair; Gladion's is somewhat smoothed out, because it's shorter now - no one wants his hair to be grabbed by suspects or criminals when he's on a case - while Hau's is long and tumbling down his shoulders and messy. Messy from him not combing properly after barely sleeping all night and waking up to the space beside him being empty and the cups of tea gone cold.

Hau always made two cups of tea. Even with Gladion away on a case, he can't bear to just make one.

There's a finality in one. It makes reality seem much more cruel. It makes him feel like Gladion won't come back.

So it's two. Always two.

The ink-black sky is full of little stars tonight, and because there was a power outage in some parts of the town - the hospital has back-up generators, so no one has died - there is no light pollution near to where they are.

The stars are very, very clear, and as they part for air, Gladion murmurs that Hau's freckles are like stars and Hau blushes but it's a little hidden in the dark.

They end up looking out at the stars, tracing them to 'connect the dots' with their fingers.

"You know what those say?" Hau asks.

"No, what do they say?" Gladion notes the way Hau's lips curl up a bit, and finds himself smiling back.

"Will you marry me?"

Gladion's heart stops for a moment as he turns to Hau, but Hau's already on one knee, a little box in his hands, a simple silver ring with engravings in it. 

_Aloha au iā 'oe._

Gladion can't find his voice for a minute, as tears well up in his eyes, so he just nods before choking out, "Yes, yes, oh god. Yes."

They hug, so tight, then Hau slips the ring onto Gladion's finger.

There's an unspoken reason behind this proposal.

_'I don't know if you'll be alive if I wait to propose to you another time.'_

 

* * *

 

The sixth time they kiss is certainly not like the rest. In fact, Gladion isn't even sure if it's real. He's quite sure it was in a dream, and yet it felt real all the same.

Mainly because it feels like 1960, where the greaser aesthetic was well, not an aesthetic but a lifestyle, perhaps. It has to do with the fact that Gladion's family is well-off and he lives in the better neighbourhoods and yet he sneaks out to go hang out with the greasers.

"Why'd you wanna hang out with those guys?" one of his 'friends' sneers, and Gladion just tells him to shut his mouth, because the boys in their madras shirts and fancy cars, the girls with sensible skirts and perfect hair, they are not the ones he wants to befriend.

He wants none of their boring parties or beer bottle smashing or picking on the weak or poor.

Instead, he laces up his boots, pulls on his leather jacket, sometimes draws on the eyeliner - makes those wings knife-sharp - and goes to the greaser neighbourhood, in the east, ignores the glares of the hoods or the street gangs, because he's got a little group of his own that he wants to see.

There's a boy there that he wants to see.

Tall, sun-kissed skin, freckles sprinkled all over, muscled enough to warn others not to tango with him, grey eyes so full of warmth each time he looks at Gladion.

 _Hau_.

It's because he's Hau's that none of the gangs have tried to mug him or kill him. It's because the homophobic ones can't point and yell a certain slur that starts with 'f' when Hau's glare is like a thunderstorm and his anger is like a hurricane.

They'll sit in the lot, the two of them, Gladion drags a cigarette between his teeth and Hau warns him not to smoke so much but is a hypocrite because he lights his own cigarette on Gladion's. There's an old record player that they found once and Hau fixed up, and Gladion's the one bringing vinyl records.

"What song is this?"

"You don't know? But you brought the record."

"Found it in the attic. Probably was my dad's."

"Great Balls Of Fire. Jerry Lee Lewis."

And Hau sings, voice a little raspy because he drank too much beer the day before, and Gladion leans against him and gazes into the storm of his eyes and listens.

"You kissed me baby, woo, it feels good  
Hold me baby, learn to let me love you like a lover should."

And Gladion smiles, smiles brightly, and closes his eyes, and Hau tilts Gladion's face up and kisses him.

He tastes of cigarette smoke and maybe the sourness of beer, but also he tastes of rain, just a little bit.

He tastes like a thunderstorm.

 

* * *

 

 

Gladion awakens from the dream, and Hau isn't next to him; instead, it's Lillie, sitting by the bedside...?

"Gladion, if you don't get ready, you'll be late for your own wedding."

Gladion remembers the silly tradition of people getting married having to be separated to get ready until the ceremony itself, and he laughs to himself.

Their seventh kiss is at the end of the aisle, their wedding rings glistening, Hau's hands in his hair and Gladion's hands on Hau's back.

The storm has faded, leaving behind a calm, gentle day.

A perfect day for a wedding.


	4. diary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little entry about why he loves him won't kill anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of my personal headcanons are found in this chapter. 
> 
> This is Older!Haudion, by the way, and contains a little bit of suggestiveness somewhere.

Hau's hair is soft and when you run your fingers through it, you'll sigh at how easily the strands pass through your fingers, but that's only when he brushes it out. When he comes home from a day out at the beach, his hair's all tousled and wind-blown, slightly damp, and it's so messy. It's slightly coarse from the saltwater, but once it's washed and dried it's all soft again. Why's his hair so magical? No one knows.

His eyes are grey, set in his face like two pieces of steel. Which is what I'd like to say, except that you'd rarely see that kind of expression at all.

When he's smiling, his eyes look so warm; the little flecks of yellow in those eyes make them look so very warm and comforting and reassuring.

When he's angry, they are rocks, they are steel, they are a thunderstorm. The coldness in them will shatter you.

Thankfully, he is very rarely angry, and usually his anger is directed elsewhere. Someone who hurt you, someone who hurt others close to him.

He is very, very, rarely angry at you.

When he's sad, those eyes are like the lonely pebbles scattered on the beach after a storm. Ever heard of the story of the mermaid who fell in love with a saint? The mermaid visited the saint every day, but he only told her that to gain a soul, she must leave the sea. In despair, knowing she could never leave the sea, the tears she cried turned into pebbles on the beach. 

One would imagine that his tear-filled eyes are like those pebbles too. They make you want to put your arms around him and hold him. Protect him. 

No one should be allowed to make him sad.

His nose is rather cute. It's a little too wide and a little too flat and sometimes he worries that he looks weird, but if you kiss his nose and tell him he looks fine, he will blush and laugh. There's a sprinkling of freckles across his cheeks and his nose, and they're like countless stars in the galaxy of his face. Connect the freckles, draw constellations on his face with your finger.

His lips are soft. Not smooth, because they're sometimes a little chapped, but they're still soft. Warm. He's very warm in general...

You'll want to kiss him again, and again, and again, because there's nothing else that would feel so good, so right. The mere act of kissing him makes your knees weak and your entire body quake. 

When he pulls back from the kiss to look at you, the look in his eyes is so tender that you fear you might cry. There's so much love in him and he's sharing that love with you. 

You feel like the happiest person alive. 

* * *

His neck is vulnerable. Strong but vulnerable. The nape of his neck is where he's weak and he makes sharp little gasps if you kiss it, because he's got a tattoo of an Alolan Raichu's tail. Just a small one, but the skin there is so sensitive.

His tribal tattoos start from one side of his chest and bloom across his shoulder, his arm. Full sleeve, so gorgeous, so hypnotic. You'll trace your fingers along his warm sun-kissed skin and lean your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. 

...his shoulders are broad. His back is muscled. Every bump and curve is felt, rippling under your fingers. 

He is both soft and rough. There is a sort of squishiness to him, yet his muscle is also firm. It seems that he's achieved the perfect balance between body fat and muscle and that's unfair.

It's impossible for a human to be so beautiful. He might as well be a god. 

His muscled arms are strong. They leave with you a lasting impression of protectiveness, reliability.

When you lie in them, when he wraps them around you, when he picks you up, you know you can trust him to guard you from all the dangers in the world. 

Your pain subsides. Even if you're suffering inside, he brings you relief for a moment. 

Even if you panic once more, he will reassure you that he is here. He will pull you close and tuck your head under his chin and whisper that it's okay. You are safe. 

Your inner demons aren't quite as fearsome when he's around.

His hands are rough and calloused, because what he does every day - collecting ingredients, mixing Pokémon food, hauling supplies, caring for Pokémon - they've made his hands like this. No matter how you soothe them, no matter how you mash avocado into a paste to rub onto his hands, you will never ever have them smooth. But that's okay, because you love his hands as they are. They're so big that yours look so small in them, when he laces his fingers with yours and nuzzles your cheek in an adorably childish manner.

His big hands also do wonders for you.

When he massages you, those callouses rub against your skin and make you cry out with relief. When he touches you, runs his hands over you, pleasured noises escape your throat.

You feel so small, so small. You want to be protected by him. 

Arguably, one of his greatest assets might be his abs.

Admire them, as you run your fingers over them. Trace each and every curve and bump. 

Kiss them. Kiss down to his crotch-

...too far down? He might get embarrassed, but he might also laugh and ask if you're that eager for him. 

His hips have little scars, because a Pokémon clawed him by mistake. Little blemishes like these somehow make him even more perfect, if one thinks about it.

His thighs have just the right balance of firmness and softness for you to lay your head upon his lap. 

His strong calves were developed by his love for surfing, for swimming, for exploring new places. His feet are maybe a little too big but they've taken him everywhere and he doesn't seem to be slowing any time soon-

* * *

 "Gladion? What are you writing?"

Gladion, in a panic, slams his laptop shut. "Just a draft for a report. Nothing much."

"Your face is red, are you okay?"

"Yes...yes I'm fine." 

Hau crosses the room, leans in and kisses Gladion's cheek.

Soft, chapped lips. 

Gladion flushes more and he instantly feels so very lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal headcanons to be found:
> 
> \- Hau's tattoos  
> \- Puberty hitting Hau like a truck  
> \- Hau works at the Pokémon daycare and/or nursery.  
> \- He can make Pokémon food. This food is also on sale for the public.  
> \- Gladion's in the Interpol. You can't see this unless you squint at the end.


	5. Galaxy 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normally, they're noisy, but for tonight, they'll be quiet. 
> 
> Noise doesn't travel in the vacuum of space. 
> 
> (Or, Gladion gets pressed up against a window.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short update. Slight NSFW.

_"I need you. Please, Hau, please..."_

Hau's breath is warm against Gladion's neck. It tickles, a little, much like the stubble on Hau's chin that he hasn't quite gotten rid of.

Other than Gladion's desperate pleads and Hau's lustful growls, they're rather quiet for now. Which is odd, because normally they'd be anything but quiet. Perhaps they just want to take this moment to admire each other.

Hau presses Gladion against the window, admiring his pale, muscled body - broad shoulders, gorgeous pecs, well-defined abs, criss-crossing scars all over, the occasional freckles sprinkled here and there.

Hau thinks those freckles are like stars, and Gladion is his galaxy.

He buries his fingers in Gladion's hair, tugs at it a little, kisses him until their lips are tingling and their bodies are growing warmer.

Gladion pauses to gaze at Hau as well, hands running down his sides. Hau has always been godlike to him, and it's frightening how big he is. Not that Gladion isn't a big guy himself, but Hau's practically a giant among men.

His tanned skin makes Gladion bite his lip, longing to taste it. Fat pecs which overflow in his hands. Those abs make even him envious.

They lock eyes, and one word comes to both of them.

_Mine_.


End file.
